


I'll Be Good.

by Proskenion



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Jaymes Young - Freeform, POV Theon Greyjoy, Song Inspired, Song Lyrics, Theon Greyjoy Lives, Theon Greyjoy-centric, Throughout Theon's Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:40:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23068627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Proskenion/pseuds/Proskenion
Summary: Throughout his whole life, Theon only wanted one thing, trying it so hard he kept repeating it to himself :I'll be good.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 14





	I'll Be Good.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello sweet squids ! 
> 
> I'm back with another one-shot, inspired by the song I'll Be Good by Jaymes Young (on my Theon playlist of course haha). I had it in mind for quite a while but it took me ages to actually write it, and I'm not sure I'm happy with the result so your thoughts and suggestions are really, really appreciated :)
> 
> Enjoy !

I’ll be good.

I’ll be good, I tell myself with my little hands gripping the sword Dagmer gave me. I’ll do what I’m told. I’ll pratice and make Dagmer proud, make father proud, make mother proud. I’ll pratice and make Rodrik and Maron stop mocking me. I’ll be good. 

Dagmer pats my back, smiling. I smile too. I’ve been good. 

But when I’m back home, Rodrik’s fists and Maron’s laughter welcome me all the same. Father’s disgusted eyes meet mine when Yara steps in to defend me. Mother’s sweet words can’t heal me tonight. 

I’ll be good.

I’ll be good, I tell myself on the Notherners’ ship while looking to the Iron Islands going away. Mother’s dignified face and teary eyes are still clear in my mind and I swear to her I’ll be good. Listening to Yara’s last words to me, I force myself to smile. I’m my father last living son now, making me his heir, and I’ll be worthy of the title. I’m taking my iron pride and my salty blood with me in the North. I’ll be good. I’ll make my family proud. I’ll be beyond reproach. The North won’t be able to blame me for anything. 

But when I arrive at Winterfell I can feel the dread infect my heart. And when I meet the notherners who live there I can see in their eyes I’ll never be good to them. I suddenly feel the loneliest I’ve ever been, and I realise I’m nothing but a strange prisoner. 

I’ll be good.

I’ll be good, I tell myself each time I carry Lord Eddard Stark’s sword for an execution. I know that anyday could be the day my own head would be separated from my body by that sword, rolling in the grass like the one of today’s sentenced man. But I smile all the same. I’ve learned to smile to everything. 

The first time Lord Stark took me to an execution, making me carry his sword, I remember throwing up when I came back to Winterfell. I couldn’t sleep that night. It never happened again. I remembered to be good. To do what was expected of me, and smile. 

But no matter what I do, I can’t make Lord Stark look at me in any other way than his cold, distant gaze. I can’t make Lady Stark look at me with any other expression than the one of disgust she barely tries to hide. I can’t make Lord Stark’s children look at me as any more than their father’s squire. 

Except from Robb. Robb Stark is different. He is the only one to whom my smile isn’t fake. 

I’ll be good.

I’ll be good, I tell myself while marching beside Robb leading the Starks troops. I have a strong feeling of belonging and I feel unstoppable. Robb is my friend and brother and, fighting by his side, I’m finally who I’m meant to be. 

I’ll be good, I say, after pledging my allegiance to Robb. He is my brother, now and always, and my sword is his, in victory and in defeat. Nothing wrong can happen now. 

I’ll be good.

I’ll be good, I tell myself on the ship that brings me back to Pyke. I’m going home at last. And this time, I’m a man grown, a warrior, son and heir of Balon Greyjoy, and with me comes the promise of all the ancient Greyjoys glory to be restored. 

But my Lord Father calls me a whore, and my beloved sister calls me an idiot. Always the same disdain, and no trace of the former affection. They treat me like a stranger, and they won’t listen. 

What other choice do I have that to prove them wrong ? 

I’ll be good.

I’ll be good, I tell myself when Winterfell is mine. I’ve been called weak and a fool. No more. I’ll show them all what I’m made of. 

But while I finally feel free to spat at the northerners’ faces all the rage and pain I kept inside for all those years, their scorn and hatred hit back at me like an iron wave. They don’t respect me, and they never will, unless I make them. 

I want to be good but everything goes wild and I lose control. The last thing I see is my horse Smiler screaming and kicking in pain as he burns alive, taking away my smile while he dies. 

I’ll be good.

I’ll be good, I tell myself when, locked up in the dark, I can’t remember anything but pain. I’ll be good, or I’ll pay the price. I’ll be good, a good dog, a good beast, a good… Reek, yes. That’s my name. I have to remember my name. Good Reek, loyal Reek, it rhymes with weak. 

I’ll be good. I’ll make the Master happy. I’ll do everything he’ll ask from me. Please him, and he won’t hurt me… But he does. He does hurt me, again and again. Because I’m not good. It seems I can’t be good. Not enough not to make him punish me. 

But when he doesn’t punish me, and he is happy, oh, how sweet… how comforting it is to know I’ve been good !

Good, good Reek, it rhymes with meek.

I’ll be good.

I’ll be good, I tell myself when I see Lady Sansa walk the door of Winterfell. I won’t let her see me, I’ll stay in the shadow. Except she sees me. 

I won’t let him hurt her. I won’t let her put herself in danger. Except he does hurt her, and she doesn’t yield. 

I’m confused. What she says to me doesn’t make sense. What he says either, not anymore. I’m confused and it hurts. I just want to be good. 

And I’ll be good. Today. Right now. As she stands tall and Myranda threatens her with her bow, I know what I have to do. I’ll be good. That’s what I keep telling myself, watching Myranda fall, running, taking Sansa’s hand in mine, jumping. I’ll be good. 

I’ll be good. I’ll keep her safe no matter what. I won’t let go of her hand as we keep running. I’ll be good. That’s why when there’s no hope left, I jump in front of Ramsay’s men, offering myself to them for her sake. To be good. 

Surprisingly I don’t die. Surprisingly we’re safe. So again, I promise, I’ll be good. I’ll serve her if she asks. I’ll do what she commands. And when she forgives me and holds me tight, the absurdity of it doesn’t register immediately. I want to be good, and I realise this means I want to go home. She lets me go, because, I realise, she knows what it means. And I thank her for what she doesn’t say with words, but with each one of her looks and touches. 

I’ve been good. 

I’ll be good.

I’ll be good, I tell myself watching the towers of Pyke appearing in the fog. I’ll be good, I repeat to myself while walking up to meet my sister. 

Yara greets me harshly, and no matter how hard I try I end up crying. I wanted so bad to be good, but I can’t help the weakness crawling back to get hold of me. I tell her I want to serve her as my queen. That’s why I came back. To be good. 

I cringe when she holds me. I cry harder when she calls me baby brother. 

I’ll be good, I tell myself at the kingsmoot. And I am. For Yara, I find strength in me I thought was gone forever. For Yara, I manage to keep my voice steady. Even if my whole body wants to curl up and disappear in the muddy ground, I stand by her side. The way she looks at me helps me not to fall. You’re doing good, she’s saying. 

So even when my uncle walks in and talks, I focus on her eyes, and on that simple truth. I’ll be good. I do not step back. 

I’ll be good.

I’ll be good, I tell myself on my sister’s ship. I’ll be her adviser. Her protector. I’ll be good, I swear, when the Silent boards our ship. I’ll be good, I chant again and again in the fight and the dread of night. 

Suddenly it’s chaos. I don’t know anything but fear. I’m paralysed. Screams. Limbs. Shouts. Blood. Yells. Blades. Reek. Reek. Reek. Run, little Theon, Reek, Reek, my name is Reek, run, run, run ! 

I wanted to be good, I want it so hard. And I tried, I swear I tried. But I never was, I never will be. I’m weak, meek, I’m… 

I’ll be good.

I’ll be good, I tell myself walking out of Dragonstone’s hall to the beach. I’ll be good, for Yara. And I face who’s left of my sister’s men. Technically, my men. I face them and I talk. And I don’t stop when they laugh. I’ll show them I can be good. 

The first punch hits hard. But he’ll need more to take me down. He keeps punching and it makes me laugh. I’ve seen way worse, and no matter how many time he’ll say it, I won’t stay down. I’ll be good. For Yara. 

I can see in their eyes they can’t believe I won the fight. I can see the new won respect, too. I stumble to my feet and walk to the sea. I wash myself, like a new baptism. For today I know my name. I’m Theon, and I’ve been good. 

I’ll be good.

I’ll be good, I tell myself with my bow in hands, walking on the Silent deck. Just a few arrows are enough, and one or two strike of my axe. In a heart-beat I’m face to face with Yara. 

I free her, and she headbutts me, of course she does. It’s only fair. She helps me getting up and we walk away together. Later, when we’re alone, she thanks me. I’ve been good, we both know it. 

And because I still have to be good, and she knows it too, she lets me go to the North. I still owe a few things to a few people. 

I’ll be good.

I’ll be good, I tell myself watching the gate of Winterfell. And when Sansa welcomes me I promise her the same. I want to be good, so I offer to protect Bran in the Godswood. 

I’ll be good, I swear before going to battle. Me and my men are ready. The night is dark and full of terror, I’ve heard them say. But I stand. I keep my position. Until the very last moment, until the break of dawn. 

I’ll be good.

I’ll be good, I tell myself everyday of the life I've been granted against all odds. Looking into my own reflection, that’s the oath I pledge to myself every morning waking up and every night before going to bed. I’ll be good. And I’ve manage to keep my word so far. I’m not afraid anymore. I know what it means to be good. It doesn't mean being perfect, it means trying your best everyday. And of course, some days it's harder than others. I know what it means to be me. I know my name, and I’m grateful for the life I’ve been allowed to live. The long, happy life of a good man.

_I’ll be good, I’ll be good_  
_And I’ll love the world like I should_  
_I’ll be good, I’ll be good_  
_For all of the time I never could_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading <3


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